


loving him was almost red

by mallory



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, LLF Comment Project, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:43:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4280700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallory/pseuds/mallory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Jake,” Boyle gasps, standing by his desk with a manila folder in his hands. “You’re orange!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	loving him was almost red

Jake strides into the precinct with his head held up high and chest puffed out, ignoring all the pointing and whispering.

He’s gotten used to it on the walk here.

(He’s stalling.

Though he should get used to walking everywhere now after the money he’s spent for this occasion.)

He was hiding back at the apartment he and Amy share for four hours until Amy noticed that he wasn’t at work. He’d told her before she left this morning that he had an appointment and to go ahead without him.

She called at 1PM and after being reassured that no, he wasn’t run over by a bus or that his disgusting pile of clothes in the corner of their bedroom didn’t take a living form and maul him, she snipped at him to get to work. She didn’t even take the time to listen to his carefully thought-out excuse about how he got diarrhoea from the bad leftover take-out from last night before she abruptly hung up.

To be fair, she’s at the precipice of her three month-long case and today’s the day she’s supposed to serve her arrest warrant to the slippery Frankfurt Raider, or Hugh Naussbam, who has been supplying hot dog vendors with bad frankfurts.

Jake was supposed to use her busyness (Is that a word? He should look it up on Yahoo Answers.) to his advantage and get ready to surprise her with his engagement gift.

 _Engagement_. He’s engaged. To be married. Shit, that sounds so adult.

It both terrifies and excites him.

Jake pokes his head around the corner to glance into the bullpen, checking to see if Amy’s at her desk.

She isn’t.

He smoothes out his ugly palm tree-printed shirt and pops his collar in an attempt to make it more cool.

“ _Oh my god!_ ” Gina suddenly yells, drawing Jake’s attention to her. Her wide eyes are trained on him. Her mouth drops open, though that does nothing to tamper the slight curve in the corners of her lips, and her arm lifts slowly to point directly at him.

“Jake,” Boyle gasps, standing by his desk with a manila folder in his hands. “You’re orange!”

Groaning, Jake steps out from around the corner and approaches the bullpen. “I know! The stupid tanning salon messed it all up.”

He supposes he deserves it, choosing a questionably cheap tanning salon. But in his defence, it was all he could afford; he’d spent all his money and then some on the engagement gift and the little skit he put together to break the news to her.

“Dude,” Rosa says, casually lounging in her chair at her desk, “what are you going to say to Amy?”

Not a moment later, Amy walks out from the hallway leading into the interrogation rooms, frown lines creasing her forehead. “What about m– Oh god. Jake,” she laughs, all signs of stress melting from the warmth of that sound. Her hands come up to her mouth and Jake catches a wink on her left finger like some kind of confidence booster. “What happened to you?”

“Surprise!” he cheers, throwing his arms up.

Hawaiian music sways out from Boyle’s speakers as Terry and some of the uniforms Jake paid steps out in tropical-themed gear - palm tree-printed shirts, coconuts, grass skirts, the works - with their arms gently waving from side to side.

Gina laughingly approaches Amy with a lei, drops it over her head and then pushes her forward.

When his fiancee ( _fiancee_ , so adult) reaches the middle of the bullpen, mere feet away from Jake, he drops down to one knee and pulls out the gift from his back pocket.

“You’re orange,” she states, her lips twitching.

“Amy?” he starts, heaving a breath and feigning seriousness.

“Did you fill the tub with orange soda? I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Will you do me the honour…”

“Yes,” she answers immediately.

A stupid grin (he can feel how stupid it is) breaks out onto his face. It reminds him of when he proposed. He’d barely stuttered out those words when, teary eyed, she nodded and laughed out that one word.

“Will you do me the honour of taking a two week break with me…”

“Yes,” she repeats, mouth looking beautiful as it forms the word.

“Darling, let me finish. For all you know we could be going to Florida.”

She shakes her head, stray hairs from her otherwise neat ponytail brushing lazily against her face with the movement. “I don’t care.”

“Or Canada.” Okay, his knee’s starting to hurt.

“I don’t care.”

He huffs impatiently, still clutching the envelope containing their two tickets to paradise. “Amy, shut up.”

“Why don’t you shut up and kiss me.”

He grins. “Done.” Pulling himself up, he grabs her by the waist and tugs her into his arms. Her own circle his neck as her eyes fall shut and her face tilts up expectantly. “Don’t you want to know where?”

“As long as it’s with you, I honestly don’t care.”

“Aw,” he teases. “Amy Santiago-soon-to-be-Santiago-Peralta, you say the sweetest things.”

“Just freaking kiss me already, you giant orange–”

He does, but it’s more like pressing his smile onto her face. It’s okay, though, because she’s doing the same thing. They probably look like weirdos with their smiling faces smashed together, but hey, they’re adults and in love so it’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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End file.
